


The Woes of Attraction (Or Lack Thereof)

by Guanin



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, Asexual Percival Graves, M/M, set in a happy verse where Grindelwald doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: Percival has a crush on Newt. There's just the slight wrinkle of how to ask Newt if he wants to go on a date. Especially since Newt might already be dating Tina.





	

Percival had a crush on Newt Scamander. He admitted it. To himself, anyway. Why wouldn’t he? The man was kind, beautiful, dedicated, had one of the sweetest smiles that Percival had ever seen, and he didn’t care what people thought of him. And he hated small talk as much as Percival did, which was a definite plus. When Theseus had first introduced them (he wanted Newt to meet as many locals as possible before moving to New York), Newt had delved straight into a discussion about the differences between MACUSA and the Ministry rather than engage in the usual, asinine questions that people asked when they didn’t know what to say. And he spoke his mind, not shying from criticizing American policies that he didn’t approve of. When he called Rappaport’s Law backward, gaze skirting away, unsure of Percival’s reaction even as he stuck to his conviction, Percival decided that he liked him. As their conversation continued, that liking grew, permeating his body in a warm excitement as he listened to Newt’s captivating voice, drawn in by his passion and those adorable freckles adorning his pretty face. 

He should have confessed his interest then. But it had been years, and he had never been adept at approaching someone he was attracted to. He could face dark wizards and dragons without a problem, but matters of the heart were much more intimidating and elusive. So he floundered, hiding his feelings, debating whether or not to dare speak them aloud. 

He waited too long. Now Newt and Tina were… Were they dating? He didn’t actually know. Tina hadn’t mentioned anything one way or the other, but she always kept her personal life private. Friends, at least, was a definite yes. She spoke of Newt often, mostly related to some creature or other, but it was impossible to mistake the fondness in her eyes. And Percival had seen them eating lunch together along with Queenie plenty of times. Although, if Queenie was there, maybe they weren’t dating. Or they were, and just reserved their alone time for the evenings. 

Percival certainly wasn’t going to ask. He was a professional. How would asking his subordinate about her dating life look? He supposed he could ask Newt. He worked in a different department, so Percival wasn’t his boss. But he would still be inquiring about his subordinate’s love life. And what would be his excuse for asking in the first place? If Newt said that they weren’t dating, then Percival could take the plunge and ask him out. That solved itself. But if they were dating, then he’d be stuck in an awkward situation with no way to extricate himself. He most certainly didn’t want Newt to be aware of his feelings if there was nothing to be done about them. Newt might stop talking to him to spare them both the embarrassment. If he told Tina, things would be weird between them. He had no doubt that she would be as professional about this as he, but the knowledge that he had a crush on her boyfriend would color the undercurrent of their dynamic. If there was one thing that he had learned after his sole, disastrous attempt at dating in the office, it was not to mix work with romance. Besides, what were the chances that it would work anyway? Even when nothing else stood in the way, his own nature did. 

So what good would it do to obsess over it, anyway? Better just let it be. Let the crush fade away. 

But Seraphina had other ideas.

“Do you have a crush on Scamander?” she asked while they were packing up to go home after a long afternoon of paperwork. 

Crap. There was no point in denying it. She was only asking because she already knew the answer.

“When did you figure it out?”

He hadn’t been talking too much about Newt, had he?

“It’s been obvious for a while. You get this sappy, joyful look on your face whenever he’s in the room.”

What?!

“Don’t worry,” Seraphina added, smirking. “It’s not obvious. I can only tell because I know you so well. It’s been years since I’ve seen that look on your face.”

Percival slouched in his chair. Even if he wasn’t being obvious, one of his eagle-eyed aurors might have noticed. Merlin, Tina hadn’t noticed, had she? No, Percival would have detected awkwardness there if she add. Unless they weren’t dating.

“Do you know if he and Tina are dating?” he asked.

“No idea. I would have thought you would already be aware of his dating status.”

“I haven’t done anything about it. He and Tina spend a lot of time together, but I haven’t been able to guess at what kind of relationship they have. I can’t ask her.”

“You can ask him.”

“I know.”

“So why haven’t you?”

Percival opened his mouth to reply… then closed it. Seraphina eyes softened with understanding.

“You won’t know if he’d be accepting or not unless you ask.”

He dropped his head against the backrest, shutting his eyes.

“I know. I’ll ask.”

Seraphina raised a skeptical brow at him. 

“I will,” Percival protested. “I’ll find the right time.” 

“No right times. Just do it.”

“I don’t want to put him off.”

“Graves.”

Percival shut up. She only called him by his surname outside of work when she thought that he was being boneheaded. Which, fine. Yes. Tomorrow. He’d seek out Newt during lunchtime and ask him tomorrow. 

```````````````````````````````

Percival awoke the next morning full of purpose. Today he would finally stop being a coward and ask Newt if he was with Tina. He might say yes. It was very probable that he would, in which case all of this determination and energy would come to nothing and he’d probably end up eating a giant chocolate bar in his office for being the idiot who waited until Newt was already in a relationship to ask him out. 

Or Newt could say no. But he might not be interested in men. Which left Percival back with the chocolate bar. 

Or Newt was interested in men, just not in Percival. 

Or he was interested in Percival, but he wanted sex. 

Percival’s shoulders sagged, halting halfway through knotting his tie. That was the most likely outcome of all. If he even made it that far. 

The statistics of probability dictated that he would most likely be munching on chocolate as he slouched in his desk chair despairing of his romantic future. 

He drank way too much coffee that morning, seeking in vain to soothe his nerves. Ten minutes before the Magical Species Department went to lunch, Percival rushed out of his office, barely keeping from sprinting down the corridor. He was forced to slow down when he passed the Law Enforcement Department, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking like there wasn’t a pretty magizoologist that he needed to speak to right this second. No one better stop him. Whatever disaster ensued, it could surely wait for ten more minutes. 

His subordinates nodded at him as he passed by. No one was stopping him. Good. 

Wadsworth looked like he might want to speak to him. Shit. Percival quickened his pace, mentally willing him to stay quiet. 

A second passed. Two. Three. Wadsworth wasn’t following him. Thank Merlin. As soon as he left the department, he hurried up the stairs two flights to the Magical Species floor and loitered by the elevators. Three minutes left before lunchtime officially began. Was Newt the punctual type? Percival had no idea. 

Soon, a stream of hungry employees entered the elevator area. None of them was Newt. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Fifteen. Did Newt not come in today? Was he sick? Or was he working through lunch?

After two minutes of pacing in the newly vacated hall, he entered the department office. Cubicles stretched out before. Which one could Newt’s be? They were hardly labeled. He felt a little desperate as he wandered down the empty desks, hoping for some hint of Newt’s residency. A picture of him with one of his beasts, perhaps. 

“Mr. Graves.”

Percival turned toward the voice. Ms. Larson, head of Magical Species, was coming out of her office, looking at him with mild bemusement.

“Ms. Larson,” he said, regaining his composure, making sure no expression or gesture was out of place. “It’s nice to see you. I didn’t know you were in. I was looking for Mr. Scamander.”

“I sent him out on a call an hour ago. Someone was hiding a runespoor in their apartment. It slipped out and scared the neighbors.”

Damn it.

“Do you want me to tell him that you came by?” she continued.

An embarrassed “no” danced on the edge of his tongue, but he couldn’t keep wavering.

“Yes. Please.”

```````````````````````````````

Percival didn’t see Newt at the café upstairs. Tina and Queenie were there, though. He felt like a duplicitous cad as he passed by their table. But that would only be so if Tina was dating Newt, which might not be the case at all. 

The afternoon passed by as quickly as a sleepy snail. Newt would probably want to see him to learn what Percival’s impromptu visit was about, but he wouldn’t do so during working hours, even if they were only two floors away from each other. So Percival was doomed to stare at his clock every five minutes, cursing it to go faster. It didn’t help that he had already planned to dedicate today to catching up with his paperwork, which was anything but distracting. If it weren’t for his investment in the safety of the magical world, he might welcome a mild crisis or two right now. 

At 5:07, his secretary messaged him.

 _Mr. Scamander is here to see you,_ the flying note said.

Percival instantly sat up straighter in his chair. Newt had come to see him. And right after his shift ended, too. Percival transfigured the surface of his desk into a mirror and checked his hair and his teeth, making sure that he looked acceptable. He wasn’t happy about those circles under his eyes, but Newt would notice if he applied a concealment charm. Transfiguring the desk back, he asked his secretary to let him in. He stood up and waited at the other side of his desk, drying the sudden sweat on his palms with a quick spell. 

“Hello,” he said as Newt opened the door.

He looked as pretty as always, wavy hair mussed on his forehead, eyes bright, if a little tired after the day’s work. 

“Thank you for coming to see me,” Percival continued. 

“Of course,” Newt said, smiling at him. That was a genuine smile, not just politeness. “Ms. Larson told me you came by. I’m sorry I missed you.”

“Please. There’s no need to apologize. She explained about the runespoor. How did that go?”

He was not stalling. But one didn’t simply demand to know someone’s dating status right after saying hello. 

“It went well, although a little longer than expected since the runespoor had scurried itself into the walls through a small hole near the chimney. I’ve asked if I can keep it for my personal research.”

Of course Newt would want to keep a three headed snake. Rumors abounded about he kept in that famous case of his. Thunderbirds. Occamies. Perhaps even a nundu. That last one was going way too far. No wizard would be foolish enough to keep that in their home, surely. Although this was Newt, after all. Even that snarling snallygaster that wrecked that small town had taken a liking to him. Percival had already come to terms with having wild and possibly dangerous animals in his life if he ever dated Newt, and if their theoretical relationship ever went anywhere.

“I’m sure you’ll have fun with it,” Percival said.

Fondness shone in Newt’s face.

“As long as the animals are happy, I’m happy. But what is it that you wished to see me about?”

Ah. The moment had arrived. Percival stood a little straighter as anxiety assaulted his spine. Come on, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

He hadn’t sounded nervous, had he? Newt waited expectantly for him to continue. Percival braced himself, phrasing and rephrasing the question in his head until he couldn’t put off speaking anymore. 

“I want to ask y—“

A knock rapped on the door. 

Fucking Merlin. Why now?

He went to the door, opening it with a tad more force than necessary, and only kept from glaring at Auror Diaz out of sheer professionalism. It wasn’t her fault that she possessed absolutely atrocious timing.

“What is it?” he asked, stomach sinking even further at the tense look on her face. 

“There’s been an incident.”

She glanced at Newt, clearly not wanting to say more in his presence. Frustration burned in Percival’s shoulders.

“Give me a second.” He turned to Newt. “I’m sorry. I need to deal with this.”

“Of course. If the matter can wait, how about I come by tomorrow. Same time?”

“That sounds fine. Thank you.”

Percival suppressed a forlorn sigh as Newt left.

```````````````````````````````

A poltergeist. His meeting with Newt had been interrupted because someone thought it was a good idea to bring a poltergeist to a family picnic, who had proceeded to wreak havoc by tossing food at passing No-Majs, floating things in the air and making them explode, and riding a bicycle into screaming people. Normally, the Ghost Department should have taken care of it, but since the clusterfuck took place in no less a public place than Central Park, it became an urgent security matter. 

The poltergeist coaxed back to its home and the No-Majs obliviated, Percival gave up on the day and returned home, fuming. 

_Just a few more hours and I can ask Newt,_ ran though his head the whole of the next day. Except that it proved to be lie, for he got stuck in a departmental meeting. By the time he realized that the wall clock in the room was running twenty minutes late and it was currently 5:25, Newt had already left. And since he had the great fortune of it being Friday, he wouldn’t be able to see Newt for another two days. 

“Maybe the universe is telling me not to bother,” Percival said morosely the next day.

He sat in Seraphina’s bedroom waiting for her to finish getting dressed for a night out to the theatre. The Last Strudel, a comedy about a goblin baker who got entangled in a sibling rivalry, had just opened to glowing reviews, and Seraphina thought it was just the thing to distract Percival from his depressive funk. 

“The universe is telling you no such thing,” Seraphina said, arranging her head wrap with her wand in front of the mirror. “You just had a small run of bad luck. You’ll talk to him on Monday.”

“Unless a fire breaks out. That’s probably next.”

Seraphina raised her brow at him through the mirror.

“I find that very doubtful.”

Percival rubbed his forehead, sighing.

“Ignore me. I know I’m being ridiculous.”

“You are a bit. But it’s perfectly understandable why.”

Head wrap finished, Seraphina turned to Percival, smiling as she squeezed his shoulder.

“No matter what happens, you’ll be okay.”

Percival smiled back with what little energy he could muster.

“Thanks.”

``````````````````````````

The play was light-hearted and fun, exactly what Percival needed right now. Tension deserted his muscles as he laughed along with the poor baker’s antics. Yet as soon as intermission came along, it invaded him all over again, for as he strode up the corridor to go to the bathroom, he spotted Newt and Tina sitting a few rows back. They were alone, so engrossed in a conversation that they didn’t even see Percival pass them a few yards away, rushing away before they saw him staring. 

It didn’t necessarily mean anything. He and Seraphina were here together and they weren’t dating. And Tina and Newt hadn’t been holding hands or showing any other form of physical affection. Not that less than half a minute of observation disproved a romantic relationship. He kept a sharp eye on them as he returned to his seat. They looked no closer than before. Again, no proof of anything one way or the other. 

Seraphina frowned at him as he sat down, noticing the distraction on his face.

“Tina and Newt are here,” he murmured into her ear to not be overheard. “They’re alone.”

“Did you talk to them?”

“No. They’re sitting down. They didn’t notice me as I passed them.”

“And you didn’t say anything so that you could observe.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds stalkery.”

She nudged his shoulder.

“Well? Did you notice anything?”

“No. But it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“Nor does the fact that they’re out together. We are.”

“I did think of that.”

“Then quit worrying so much. I paid good money to wipe that frown off your face. Now it’s back again.”

“I’m trying. But maybe it’s better that I get used to the idea. Just in case.”

Seraphina regarded him with a sympathetic expression, rubbing his shoulders. 

````````````````````````````

On Monday morning, he arrived to a revised copy of his schedule on his desk. One of the items hadn’t been there before.

_9:30: Meeting at Conference Room B_

There was no mention of who the meeting was with. 

“What is this meeting at 9:30?” he asked his secretary.

“I’m afraid I don’t know, sir. The president just asked me to include it in your schedule. She said it was top priority and that you were not to be interrupted unless the building is on fire. Those were her exact words.”

Were they? Percival narrowed his eyes at the schedule, reading the bullet point again. She hadn’t set up a meeting between him and Newt, had she? They had already rescheduled for 5pm. Again. Unless the building was on fire. Mercy Lewis, that was exactly the sort of sneaky thing that she would do. 

Only years of training allowed him to focus on work for the next hour. The clock somehow managed to crawl extra slowly as it crept toward 9:25. The instant the minute hand hit 12, Percival rose from his desk and rushed down the corridor to Conference Room B. His palms had grown sweaty by the time that he turned the doorknob, bracing himself in case Newt was early. He swung the door open. 

The room was empty. 

It was still 9:26. And Newt had two floors to get through. Well, he should be here soon enough. Seraphina would have made sure to put a similar prohibition on him being whisked away for work ahead of this appointment. 

Mercy Lewis, this was ridiculous. He would have made it through the day perfectly fine waiting to speak to Newt. He had survived days, after all. Crap, he should have checked his hair before he left. He couldn’t do it now. Newt might walk in any second. He was sure it was fine. The lotion he used worked great. Should he sit? Maybe he should sit. Hovering awkwardly by the table might look weird. But it wasn’t like there was much to do. The room wasn’t that large, consisting of a long table, chairs, and some office supplies. He grabbed a notepad and a quill and began to doodle. Newt wouldn’t look askance at a little doodling. He was hardly the orthodox type. That was one of the things that Percival liked about him. 

The doorknob clicked as someone turned it. Percival jerked up from his chair, knocking over the inkwell as he scrambled to put away his drawing.

“Shit,” he muttered, watching aghast as ink spilled all over the table and onto his clothes.

“Are you alright?”

Percival looked up at Newt’s solicitous face. Well, this was just the sort of embarrassing scenario he didn’t want to be in right now.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Percival molded his grimace into a smile as he vanished the ink and stood up. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, straightening his vest. 

“No need to apologize. I’m sorry for startling you.”

Newt closed the door behind him, and leaned in to peer at the doodle before Percival could put it away. 

“Is that a snallygaster?” Newt asked.

“Yes. It’s supposed to be, anyway. I was just killing time.”

“You’re quite good. You executed the plumage of its wings very well.”

A blush crept up Percival’s neck.

“Thanks.”

“I’m hoping to be able to study them more closely in the summer, if I can get the time off.”

“I’m sure Ms. Larson will have no problem with that. So, um, you’ve probably figured out that it’s just the two of us.”

“I did, yes. Is this about what you wanted to ask me? Ms. Larson only said that I couldn’t under any circumstances miss this meeting. I didn’t realize the matter was so important.”

“It’s not. I apologize for how over the top this is. I didn’t set this up.”

“Who did, then?”

“The president. She’s got an odd sense of humor. I told her how we’ve had to postpone our conversation twice because something came up. This is her way of helping.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose it gets the job done. No one is likely to interrupt us now.”

“No. Not likely.”

“So what did you want to ask?”

Ah. That. The reason why they were both here. Which was now rendered even more awkward and weird by the subterfuge and endless delays. Percival looked down at his sad, little drawing. Newt had liked it. That was something, right?

“This is going to sound strange,” he said, bracing himself on the back of a chair. “Especially after all the runaround.”

 _Quit stalling and say it_ , he ordered himself.

“Are you and Tina dating?” he asked.

Newt’s eyes widened in surprise.

“That’s not at all what I expected you to ask,” he said after a moment of shock.

“There is a reason I’m asking. I don’t simply wish to intrude on your privacy.”

“I suppose you can’t simply ask her directly, her being your subordinate.”

Newt wasn’t looking at him, looking just as uncomfortable as he felt. Percival’s desperate hope fizzled. That wasn’t a good sign.

“No, I can’t.”

“We’re not dating.”

Oh. Good. Great. Then why did Newt look like that?

“I can’t speak as to whether she would be receptive if you were to ask her out, but wouldn’t your working relationship be a complication?”

Wait, what?

“You think I want to ask Tina out?”

Newt looked at him, frowning.

“Don’t you?”

“No.”

“Then why…” Newt’s eyes widened. “Oh. You like me?”

“Yes.”

Merlin, the last time he’d asked someone out hadn’t been anywhere near this difficult. Yet Newt didn’t look upset by the realization. Just surprised. Was it worth hoping, after all?

“I don’t know if you’d be interested,” Percival said, trying his damnest not to look desperate. 

“I hadn’t thought you’d be. I don’t often get this question. I’m considered to be too odd by most people.”

“You’re not odd.”

“Please, don’t think that I’m belittling myself. I’m only acknowledging the impression people get. I don’t think anything of it.”

“Good. Those people are idiots.”

A pleased smile flowered on Newt’s face, soothing some of Percival’s nerves.

“I appreciate the defense, but I’m alright.”

Newt rubbed the back of his right wrist before hastily dropping his hand.

“Back to your proposal--” he said.

“Before you say anything else,” Percival interrupted him. “There is one thing I have to mention. And I know it’s weird to bring up sex before the date even happens, but the last time, I didn’t, and it blew up in my face. I don’t have sex. Which might change, or not, I don’t know, what you were about to say.”

Well, that had been as smooth as an unpaved road. Newt was staring at him with mild surprise and interest. Interest? Yes, that was the correct term for that expression. 

“You never have sex?”

“No. I don’t want to. But most people do, so I’ve learned better than to keep that to myself in these situations.”

Newt dropped his gaze to the table, pensive. Most people would have found some way to excuse themselves by now. Hope continued to bubble in Percival’s chest.

“So you have no interest in sex? At all? No urge for it? Forgive me. Those are quite personal questions.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t. The thought of doing it isn’t pleasant to me, and I confess I don’t really understand what people mean by lust or those sort of urges. I comprehend the concept from a theoretical standpoint, but not a personal one.”

Newt was frowning now. But it wasn’t a resentful frown. He held onto the table, like he was using it to prop himself up. Internal confusion troubled him, gripping him in deep thought. Percival had been an auror for too long not to recognize the nature of people’s expressions, especially when they weren’t even trying to dissemble. 

“Newt? Are you okay?”

Newt looked up, wide-eyed and startled.

“Yes. Sorry, I… I had a thought. I hadn’t heard anyone express those feelings before.”

A more intimate realization pulsed in his voice. It couldn’t be… Could it?

“Does any of this sound familiar to you?” Percival asked.

“No. Well, not exactly. Like I said, I’d never heard anyone say these things. I have had sex. But I’ve never sought it out. I wouldn’t quite say I… It wasn’t unpleasant, exactly. But I would rather have… I would rather have been doing something else. It’s always felt like the thing to do. I’d never heard of someone seeking a romantic relationship while also abstaining from it.”

Percival regarded Newt’s flustered face with awe. He couldn’t believe it.

“You sound a lot like me.”

Newt looked down at the desk again, then met his eyes, filled with urgent curiosity.

“Do you mind if I ask you more questions?”

“Not at all.”

Their meeting ran almost a full hour before Percival couldn’t ignore his sense of responsibility any longer and had to cut it short, but he couldn’t have turned away from Newt any earlier. Another ace. It was uncanny. And Newt hadn’t even suspected. For all his studies, he’d never stumbled across this notion. He’d just thought this was one more way in which he was out of sync with the people around him, but one in which he had to ignore himself and conform to not be turned away. By the end, Percival’s regard for him had grown even more acute, but if Newt declined his offer, that was alright. What mattered was that he was happy and comfortable in this new knowledge of himself. 

But he needn’t have worried.

“I do want to go out with you,” Newt said as they stood up to leave, eyes alight with genuine interest. “I was going to say that from the beginning, even if I was a little nervous about aspect of it. I’m so glad you brought it up first.”

A grin burst of Percival’s face. 

“I’m really glad, too. Is tonight too soon?”

“Not at all.”


End file.
